


Everyday Words

by Just_A_Simple_Writer



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Costume Parties & Masquerades, Fluff, M/M, i dont know anything about history i just wanted to write dancing fluff, its dumb and gay thats all you need to know, its set in like. the eighteenth century, or something, they have cravats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:53:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27657787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_A_Simple_Writer/pseuds/Just_A_Simple_Writer
Summary: Gerry does, turning around to see Michael grinning at him. He’s wearing a scarlet mask, though his clear blue eyes are easily visible through it.“Do you like it?” he asks, endearingly skittish.“Of course,” Gerry says, and stands up on tippytoes to kiss him. “You’re always beautiful.”
Relationships: Gerard Keay/Michael Shelley
Comments: 7
Kudos: 28





	Everyday Words

**Author's Note:**

> we had a conversation on the gerrymichael discord server about masked balls and dancing and brain went 'write. now' so here we are
> 
> title from La Vie En Rose

It’s late evening when Michael finally knocks on the window of Gerry’s second-story bedroom, and Gerry opens the window, letting in the night. The air is still warm, and it smells faintly of the roses which climb the trellis outside his room, the same trellis Michael uses to reach his window.

“I thought perhaps you weren’t coming,” he says, offering Michael his hand and helping him over the sill.

He’s remarkably graceful about it, feet landing soundlessly on the carpeted floor. “Of course I came,” he says, taking Gerry’s hands in his and kissing them, one after the other. “I did promise, did I not?”

“You did.”

He smiles and leans into kiss Gerry’s cheek, simple and chaste. “Then why would I ever let you down?”

Gerry has no answer for that.

Michael laughs, low in his throat, and tucks a rose into Gerry’s hair, still in a messy braid down his back. “You aren’t dressed.”

“Gertrude thinks I’m in bed,” Gerry tells him. “I had to look the part.”

“Of course,” Michael tells him, with a grin that could be described as roguish. “You do have party clothes, do you not?”

“I do.”

“Then change now. I shall look away, if that’s what you want.”

“I don’t mind,” Gerry murmurs, and steps away, shedding his simple sleeping shirt. He can feel Michael's eyes on him.

He doesn’t look at Michael as he changes into a suit more suited for a ball, for the sort of party Michael has hinted at.

“You look beautiful, darling,” Michael purrs, wrapping his arms around Gerry’s waist and kissing his neck, just below his jaw.

“Thank you,” Gerry says, spinning in Michael's arms to kiss him properly, tangling his hands in his hair.

He pulls away a few minutes later and finds himself pressed against the wall. His cravat seems to have come undone.

“You’ll make a mess of me,” he says, putting his hand on Michael's chest and pushing him a little way away.

“And wouldn’t that be a shame.” Michael grins, wide and mischievous. “Let me help you.”

Gerry nods and lets Michael fix his cravat with quick, clever fingers.

“Are you ready?” Michael says, stepping back.

“One moment.” Gerry takes the ribbon out of his hair and lets it down, leaving the rose Michael left there on the table beside his bed. Perhaps Gertrude will find it there, but they grow right beside his window.

Michael laughs softly and offers Gerry his hand. “Come, then.”

Gerry is well practiced in climbing down the trellis, leaving his window open just wide enough for him to be able to climb back in upon his return. It’s a warm night, the sky clear and bright, and they have no need for a candle as they walk hand-in-hand through the garden.

“It’s a lovely evening,” he comments, as they step out into the street. They have to keep to the backstreets, at least for as long as it takes for them to get out of the neighbourhood. Gerry cannot afford to risk being seen by a neighbour.

“It is,” Michael says, and brushes his lips across the back of Gerry’s hand.

Gerry is sure he blushes, but the night is dark enough that no one could say. He does not have a reputation as the sort of man who blushes at a simple touch, and he would like things to stay that way.

The house Michael leads them to is not quite what Gerry was expecting. It’s large, yes, and must have once been stately, but now it appears abandoned, vines creeping up the stones outside.

“Are you sure this is right?” he asks, and watches Michael grin.

“Quite sure.”

“I suppose we should enter, then.”

“Not yet,” Michael says, pulling Gerry closer, so they’re pressed chest to chest. “I did tell you it was a masked ball, did I not?”

“You did,” Gerry says, suddenly remembering. “I’m afraid I forgot.”

“I thought you might have.”

“Do you have masks?”

“I do. Turn around.”

Gerry does, trusting Michael as he does.

“Close your eyes.”

Gerry laughs faintly, but he obeys.

Some soft fabric brushes his face as Michael slips what he presumes to be a mask over his eyes and fastens it.

“There,” he says.

“May I open my eyes?”

“Not yet.”

Gerry feels a smile playing on his lips, but he humours Michael and keeps his eyes closed.

“Alright,” Michael says, finally. “Now you may look.”

Gerry does, turning around to see Michael grinning at him. He’s wearing a scarlet mask, though his clear blue eyes are easily visible through it.

“Do you like it?” he asks, endearingly skittish.

“Of course,” Gerry says, and stands up on tippytoes to kiss him. “You’re always beautiful.”

“You flatter me,” Michael tells him, and Gerry imagines he sees the faintest blush on his cheeks. “Come, we’ll be late.”

The door to the old, abandoned mansion is standing ajar and Michael leads him through it, into an entrance hall which seems only a moment from collapsing, tumbling into rubble. It’s hard to imagine any ball taking place here, and Gerry can hear no music.

Still. He would trust Michael with his life.

“In here,” Michael says, finally, stopping outside of a small, non-descript wooden door. “After you, darling.”

He pushes it open, and first the first time Gerry hears music, drifting up the spiral staircase in front of him.

It’s decorated, unlike the rest of the house, thick red velvet lining the walls and candles held in sconces on the walls. It’s not quite what he was expecting, but he begins to walk nonetheless.

He can feel Michael standing behind him, and the presence is comforting, in a way. He’s no coward, but a ball held in an abandoned house _is_ a little unnerving.

Not that he would ever mention it to Michael, of course. He would take any chance to spend more time with him, time where they don’t have to fear Gertrude walking in and catching him there.

The room he finds at the bottom of the steps is a world removed from the house above it. The walls are draped in more thick velvet, the whole room bathed in candlelight, spilling from the chandelier hanging above their heads.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Michael asks, voice low.

“Yes,” Gerry says, looking around the crowds of people. No one gives him a even a second look as Michael leads him through the crowd, and he listens to the babble of conversation.

There’s a violin playing somewhere, though Gerry can’t see where. Still, the music drifts through the room like a living thing, curling around the people talking and those dancing, and he feels it settle beneath his skin.

“Dance with me,” Michael whispers, and Gerry nods.

“Of course.”

He allows himself to be led to the centre of the ballroom, where couples seem to be dancing, each wrapped up in their own little world, and any anxiety Gerry had left melts away as Michael takes his hands and presses them together, leading the dance.

There’s no space between them and it feels as though they’re the only ones in the world, at least in this moment, and Gerry could ask for nothing better.

“I love you,” he murmurs, and he knows Michael hears him, even over the music.

“I love you too, dear heart,” Michael tells him, leaning down to kiss his hair. “You’re everything to me.”

Gerry’s sure he’s blushing now, and he doesn’t have the cover of night to hide it. “You’re too kind.”

“On the contrary. I’m not half as kind as you deserve.”

Gerry goes silent for a moment, focuses on the steps of the dance, he doesn’t know what he ever did to deserve Michael, but his heart is so full.

“I love you,” he says, again. “I love you.”

Michael ducks his head and then they’re kissing, still standing in the middle of the dancefloor without a care as to who sees them. All that matters in this moment is them.

And there is no response from the strangers around them, when they finally separate. No one tells the that they can’t. No one is even looking.

They’re safe, here.

**Author's Note:**

> i could not see a thing while writing most of this sorry for any errors


End file.
